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Chp-90
1.9 ABY
Zyx Mola
Minda System
The city of Accordia had grown significantly since the last time Zyx had visited. She could spot the newer districts easily, prefab homes making obvious patterns. It would've seemed the start of a slum district, if not for the construction sites building new homes and infrastructure that dotted the area.
Some finished homes seemed almost sullustan in nature, which confirmed the reports of large sullustan immigration to the system.
She sighed, leaning against the window of her hotel room. It was a decent place, though the amenities given weren't enough to distract her.
Kriffing ISB. They were the only reason she was even on vacation, and even then she couldn't bring herself to feel thankful.
Even since Yavin, the Emperor had been cracking down on things. The ISB had been taking a more prominent role in the Empire as a whole.
And where did that leave Military Intelligence? Where did that leave her?
Nowhere, that's what. The ISB had recently been granted expanded privileges, courtesy of the Emperor himself. What had once been some competing institutional overlap between MI and the ISB now no longer existed.
Now, the ISB essentially did MI's job. They were granted more funding for expansion, taken straight from MI's budget. The organization was for all intents and purposes being gutted, and so leadership had issued a freezing of all assets, herself included.
But Zyx was no fool. She was aware that the future of the organization was dire at best. And that meant her next paycheck might not show up. So, she went to the Myto sector.
Her little brother is many things, but wasteful isn't one of them. And an experienced operative like her was quite useful, so she was sure she could find employment under him if nothing else.
It was then that a ding resounded on her room's intercom, signaling that her room service was ready and on the way.
If nothing else, Zyx was excited to try some of the city's food. As an agent, she often went long periods of time simply eating ration packs. Nutritious, but bland.
And if she was being honest, she couldn't resist the urge to try Alderaanian-Sullustan fusion cuisine.
–
Zyx spent the next few days generally enjoying the city. Even if she was on the verge of losing her job, it had been a well paying position. Suffice to say that financially she was set for a while to come.
So she took to the streets. Visiting cafe's, markets, and even museums. They were quite nice, though they weren't particularly large.
Then again, compared to the museum she'd seen on Coruscant, the entire city was small.
On the third day, she decided to stop putting it off and simply contact her brother. The thought of sneaking in as she had the first time had crossed her mine, but that Commander still scared her somewhat.
So, she had to consider alternative options. The first was to get arrested, give the authorities her real name, and have them bring that to Las. It would be time consuming, but very funny.
But she didn't feel like wasting that much time. Instead, she made a formal request to the office of the Moff. Boring, but it was quick. Just a day later she'd been given an appointment.
Which is how she found herself in a waiting room. Before her, behind a desk, sat a tall Muun.
He was impeccably dressed. The standard Imperial uniform, modified for his body type, was clearly of different make. The stark black that marked him as a lower level official was not the common threads used by the Empire, but instead a much finer quality material, the color of which was comparable to black holes. It was so dark, in fact, it made him look almost two dimensional, like a shadow.
To contrast the sheer light absorption of the cloth was the lining. There were no visible stitches, and instead the edges of the uniform were lined with what looked to be chromium. It created the image as though small lines of light were moving instead of a person.
"Miss Zyx Mola, yes?" He asked, no accent discernible in his voice. Atypical for most Muuns, who often spoke basic with a higher, more nasally tone of voice.
"That's me. Here to see brother dearest!"
He hummed, eyes scanning her, and she detected a hint of distaste before he sighed.
"Go on through then."
She considered for a bit, but that look wouldn't leave her head.
"No. Not yet. You gave me a look just a second ago. What is it?"
His eyes met hers, and clearly spotted her determination before relenting.
"Well, to be honest. It's your outfit. It's dreadfully boring."
Indignation flooded her veins.
"Boring! My outfit is functional, and that's a beauty unto itself!"
"Honey, please. You have five pockets on either side of your jacket. And who knows how many on your pants. Plus, the colors don't match at all, and there's far too much bagginess going on with the outfit. It leaves the core, you, sticking out. And not in a good way."
Zyx was momentarily stunned before immediately throwing herself into the fray.
"Then it's clear you simply don't have any vision! The pockets create a functional pattern on the outfit that serves both to assist me and to draw attention. The bagginess keeps it comfortable, and more importantly leaves me, the best part and core, open and visible! This masterclass serves only to accentuate my own beauty!"
The Muun scoffs. "Accentuate? Please, it does nothing but make it seem as though the clothes are two sizes too big for you! Bagginess can work, but it must be constrained. Your jacket looks like it might fall off of you at any second! And the utility is purely performative, as none would have the need of so many pockets. Anyone who requires more storage would simply carry a bag of sorts. Pointless! Not to mention the coloring."
"First off, the pockets paint me as someone who is prepared for life in all its forms. And the bagginess doesn't restrict my movement, and is comfortable! Not to mention, the coloring is mismatched on purpose, because it brings asymmetry into the mix, and makes the entire outfit pop!"
"Hah! Your sense of asymmetry doesn't make you pop, it creates clutter. As do the pockets and the bagginess. A good outfit doesn't have to avoid the core, instead it guides the watchers eyes, shows intention and tells them what matters. With you, all I can see is a visual vomit of things that, individually, could almost work if not for them all being slapped together. Not to mention, comfort is in the tailoring, so if you need clothes that nearly fall off with every step to feel comfortable, then you need a better tailor."
A retort about how her clothes are honest to her character is on the tip of Zyx's tongue before the Muuns intercom beeps, and her brother's voice rings out.
"Garp, wasn't there an appointment scheduled a few minutes ago? Are they late?"
"No sir, we were just having a…spirited discussion. She's on the way."
With that finished, he waved her through, though the glance they shared told her everything.
This conversation wasn't finished. Not by a long shot.
Entering Las's office, the first thing she noted was the size.
It was smaller, despite not having been changed since. More amenities had been added to the space, with a couch, table, and small kitchen. It made the place feel cramped considering he also kept rows of filing cabinets around as well. His insistence on keeping physical reports was something to behold.
The second thing she noticed was the inhabitants of the room.
Las was seated behind his desk, a mug in hand, fingers rubbing his temple in annoyance. His pet, Mugwuffin if she remembered correctly, was lounging on a tall, fluffy structure behind him, stretched out across a platform and audibly snoring.
Before him were three people. Her other two sisters, and her father.
Unlike the others, Zyx never really hated her father. Not truly. Shal had known him the best, considering he raised her, and Alvi had always insisted on seeing Las as a child and so met him as well. But Zyx had never really interacted with him. To her, he barely existed, and how could she hate a stranger?
"Look, Las, stop putting this off. Just tell me why you don't want to go!" Yelled Shal, slamming her hands on the desk, clearly angry. Shal was notorious for her temper around friends and family. With anyone else, she was as cold as ice. But with those close to her, her rage was plain to see.
"First of all." Las said. "If I were a crueler man, I could shoot you where you stand."
The room paused, even Zyx. Las? Shoot someone? It sounded ridiculous.
But he was Moff.
"And if I cared enough, I would go on this family vacation. Thankfully for you, I am not a cruel man. And even if I did care enough to go, I'm so absolutely swamped with the job of running the sector that I can't exactly spare the time, now can I?"
"Then delegate! That's half the job anyways, isn't it?" Retorted Shal, clearly shaken from his threat but pushing on anyway.
"And trust the corrupt idiots out there to do their jobs properly? Like hell. And I do delegate! I have Dornun here, even if his wording is vague and his tone too smug for how much I pay him."
"You don't actually pay me at all." Retorted the man, face serene in the midst of the ongoing drama.
"...Really? Shit. Talk to Garp about it and have your payroll figured out. I refuse to break my own labor laws."
It's then that he notices her.
"Hey! It's nice to see the entire family! What's the reunion for?"
Shal makes that face she always does, where she can't decide if she's happy to see Zyx or annoyed at her general existence before answering.
"We're trying to get this shut in to come on vacation with us. He never leaves his tower for anything other than work, he never calls. At this point, I'm afraid he'll die of exhaustion and only be found a week later because everyone assumes its normal."
"Hey! I don't do that!"
Shal simply points towards the blankets on the couch.
All the while, Zyx notices Alvi's quiet demeanor. Alvi was always a fairly fiery person, at least around her friends and in her leadership. But around the family, she was a shy individual. It didn't help that Las and her had grown apart, what with Las's constant disobedience of Mother, leaving Alvi as the sole real recipient of her full judgement. With Shal and Zyx away from Eriadu, and Dornun concerned with literally anything else, it left her alone.
Zyx had always regretted that, if she was being honest. But MI had been the only way to escape, to get away from her Mother. A position she earned on her own, with no possible connections to the Mola family. It just so happened to give her no breaks anywhere near Eriadu.
It was as Las and Shal continued to bicker that the intercom on Las's desk dinged.
"Sir. You have an unscheduled appointment here to meet you. One Jir Mola?"
The room stopped. Even Dornun gave pause, eyes widening slightly. Zyx would've been proud of catching that detail, given that on average the old man was more perceptive than her by a mile, but the current situation made her forget all about that.
With shaking hands, Las pressed the intercom. "Let her through." He said, in a voice that sounded far steadier than he seemed.
The doors slid open, and in walked the Mola family Matriarch in all her glory.
She was not tall, standing at some 5 '6 (around 1.7 meters) and wearing the dark beige uniform of an Imperial commandant. Her hair was coiled into a regulation bun, streaks of white marring the sea of black.
Her face was a stern thing, seemingly always set in what seemed to be an impassive, almost neutral face. But that was not the truth, and Zyx could see it. The slightest curve of the lips, the most minor crinkling of the eyes. Mother never made large gestures, never raised her voice, and rarely changed her facial expression. It left her face with far fewer wrinkles than someone her age, like Dornun, would normally have.
Yet, those little details belied all the emotions she hid from the world.
Jir Mola was, for what seemed like the first time Zyx had ever seen, satisfied. Or at least as close as she could ever get.
"You're all here. Good. Is this room secure?"
A shock of instinctive fear seemed to run through Las, and he nodded.
"Good." Her imperious gaze swept over the group, stopping only on Dornun.
"Dornun." She said in monotone.
"Jir." He replied with just as much emotion.
"Why are you here."
"I've found employment under Las."
At that, her gaze snapped towards the youngest, eyes softening an imperceptible amount.
"Las. You've done well for yourself. Far better than expected. Good."
Zyx had to restrain her emotions. That was, bar none, the most praise she'd ever heard Mother give to anyone. Period. It simply never happened.
Before Las could respond in any way, Jir continued.
"This sector is the perfect staging ground for our families future. It seems most of you have already found employment here, which is perfect. Zyx."
Hearing her name from Mother brought back a deluge of emotions that she tamped down on, choosing instead to look at her.
"Why are you here? MI gives few vacations."
"...The ISB made a power move. MI is dying."
"Hmm…This is an advantage. Join the ISB. The jump should be easy to cover. If you can be assigned to this sector, even better."
Zyx wanted to protest. Join the ISB? Why would she ever want to join those sniveling, propaganda obsessed, paranoid bastards? They were stumbling fools, rancors in a porcelain shop, jumping at every shadow. MI had its issues, its internal rivalries, but at least they were professional about it. But she stayed her tongue. Even years apart hadn't washed away the conditioning.
Mother turned back to Las. "You are to give your sisters better assignments. More power. This family must sit at the top of this sector. And from what I hear, you have already begun a purge of the administration. Good. Also, you have pushed for more non-human integration in the sector, correct?"
It seemed to be at that point that Las's voice found him. "...Yes. Though it's slow and subtle."
"Good. Keep it that way. I want this sector to have as little xenophobia as possible, but not so little as to alert the Empire."
They all look at her a little oddly. While Mother had never been a xenophobe, she'd spoken the right words and said the right slurs to the right people, always aiming to get in the good graces of those above her.
Noticing the looks, she scoffed. "Can't you see? The Empire is doomed to failure. After that debacle with Alderaan, it's plain for most. The Empire won't last the next decade, if that. Our families best bet of staying in power is ensuring this sector is as prepared for transition into Rebel hands when that happens. It'll secure us positions in the future galactic government."
It sounded insane. It sounded like treason. Yet, despite the fact that Mother had always been an Imperial hardliner, despite the fact that she ran an Imperial Academy, despite the fact that she'd personally been a friend of Wilhuff Tarkin…it made sense. It clicked.
Jir Mola only cared about her legacy. Nothing else.
"You will accept my transfer request to the sector. I heard that you are opening new academies. I will be Commandant of the largest one. It will position me to influence the next generation of troopers and help ensure we have a better military grasp when the time comes."
That was another thing that clicked. Commandant. Jir Mola, with her connections, could've held a higher office. But she chose not to. Instead, she chose to stay a Commandant. Why? Because of the sheer influence over the next generation of cadets she would have. The ability to use promising cadets as a bargaining chip. The ability to negotiate directly with the parents of wealthy or connected cadets.
The ability to ensure her own children got into the best tracks, and therefore better, more powerful careers.
Mother continues on, giving each of them assignments to be completed. Alvi was to be made into a propaganda hero, to be sent out in her TIE to slaughter pirates and spread the Mola name sector wide.
Shal was to be promoted within the Navy, and make close ties with the new Sector Admiral.
Zyx was to join the ISB, get assigned to the sector, and make connections and monitor the ISB's actions from there.
And Las was to continue to make the sector more prosperous, while also building up the sector's military presence in order to ensure it was safe from the inevitable warlordism that the Empire's fall would bring.
And through all of it, Las was silent. He seemed to stare into the middle distance, as if there was something there calling to him. Eventually, he said one word.
"...commandant."
Mother turned to him, eyes narrowing just the slightest amount.
"What? Have you something to add?" Her tone clearly telling him to either speak productively or not speak at all.
"Your rank is Commandant." He continued, the slightest giggle escaping his mouth.
Before Jir could respond, Las burst out into a full blown laugh. Hands on his stomach, keeled over his desk, laughing until he cried.
This went on and on, Mother trying and failing to stop him. Only when she seemed on the verge of slapping him did he calm down just enough to explain.
"Heh…your rank is-heheheh-its just Commandant! HAHAHAH!!!" He burst out laughing again. "You have absolutely NO power over me!"
As he said this, he started typing something into his terminal, giggles still escaping him.
"Las Mola. I am your Mother. You will silence this foolishness and listen to me." Mother didn't raise her voice, she never did, but at this moment she seemed poised to scream at the man.
Instead, Las simply turned to her. "I've accepted your transfer request."
"Good, now-"
"And immediately discharged you."
The room freezes for the third time. The only difference?
Jir Mola is frozen as well.
"...What?" Jir seems to grind out, her face slowly contorting into the angriest Zyx had ever seen her.
"Now, the military pension program here in the Minda system is pretty nice, but considering you were just a Commandant, it likely won't be that much since it's based on the Mindan payscale instead of the Eriadu one. So, I recommend you find yourself a job."
Jir just stared at him as though he had sprouted new limbs.
"The local administrative offices have job assistance programs that can get you started if you need to. I recommend you check them out, since you'll need to go there anyway to get your new civilian ID issued to you."
"Wha-you can't-"
"I can. And I have. See this?" He says, pointed towards his rank pips with an insufferably smug look on his face. "I'm a Moff. You are a Commandant. While I understand that some things do get mixed out here in the Outer Rim, I'm pretty sure I know how the chain of command works."
Jir couldn't respond. Her eyes were wide open, mouth agape, posture rigid with shock.
Las simply pressed the intercom. "Garp, please send in security to escort Mrs Jir Mola out of my office please. She has some dischargement papers to work through."
As two Stormtroopers walked in and started to bodily drag Jir away, her eyes never left Las's smiling, almost giddy face.
Only after the doors had closed did Las let out a sigh of relief.
"Wow. I spent years dreading her. And she was just a Commandant! I don't really know what I was scared of, honestly. Whew, that's one worry tossed away."
It was then that Las noticed the rest of them. "Alright, shows over. Get out of my office."
"But-how-"
"Did you really-?"
"HAHAHAHAH!"
Alvi, Shal and Dornun reacted in synch, while Zyx simply stood there. Staring at the doors where Jir Mola had been dragged away. Out of the office. Out of her rank. Out of Zyx's life.
"Let me work for you."
Las looked at her, an eyebrow raised, before shrugging. "Sure, whatever. You seem competent enough." He typed something into his terminal. "Talk with Garp on the way out, he'll help get the paperwork sorted and introduce you to your new boss. I'm sure Thorne will love you."
"Now!" He said, standing up. "I've got an R&D ship showcase in twenty minutes and a meeting with banking clan representatives after that, so all of you need to shoo! Get! Scram!"
And scram they did. Alvi and Shal still in a haze, Dornun still laughing his ass off, and Zyx reveling in this newfound feeling.
The feeling of freedom.
-
Yo. I never knew the Eruptor in Helldivers 2 was so goated against the Bots. Now I know.
-Freefaller
1.9 ABY
Zyx Mola
Minda System
The city of Accordia had grown significantly since the last time Zyx had visited. She could spot the newer districts easily, prefab homes making obvious patterns. It would've seemed the start of a slum district, if not for the construction sites building new homes and infrastructure that dotted the area.
Some finished homes seemed almost sullustan in nature, which confirmed the reports of large sullustan immigration to the system.
She sighed, leaning against the window of her hotel room. It was a decent place, though the amenities given weren't enough to distract her.
Kriffing ISB. They were the only reason she was even on vacation, and even then she couldn't bring herself to feel thankful.
Even since Yavin, the Emperor had been cracking down on things. The ISB had been taking a more prominent role in the Empire as a whole.
And where did that leave Military Intelligence? Where did that leave her?
Nowhere, that's what. The ISB had recently been granted expanded privileges, courtesy of the Emperor himself. What had once been some competing institutional overlap between MI and the ISB now no longer existed.
Now, the ISB essentially did MI's job. They were granted more funding for expansion, taken straight from MI's budget. The organization was for all intents and purposes being gutted, and so leadership had issued a freezing of all assets, herself included.
But Zyx was no fool. She was aware that the future of the organization was dire at best. And that meant her next paycheck might not show up. So, she went to the Myto sector.
Her little brother is many things, but wasteful isn't one of them. And an experienced operative like her was quite useful, so she was sure she could find employment under him if nothing else.
It was then that a ding resounded on her room's intercom, signaling that her room service was ready and on the way.
If nothing else, Zyx was excited to try some of the city's food. As an agent, she often went long periods of time simply eating ration packs. Nutritious, but bland.
And if she was being honest, she couldn't resist the urge to try Alderaanian-Sullustan fusion cuisine.
–
Zyx spent the next few days generally enjoying the city. Even if she was on the verge of losing her job, it had been a well paying position. Suffice to say that financially she was set for a while to come.
So she took to the streets. Visiting cafe's, markets, and even museums. They were quite nice, though they weren't particularly large.
Then again, compared to the museum she'd seen on Coruscant, the entire city was small.
On the third day, she decided to stop putting it off and simply contact her brother. The thought of sneaking in as she had the first time had crossed her mine, but that Commander still scared her somewhat.
So, she had to consider alternative options. The first was to get arrested, give the authorities her real name, and have them bring that to Las. It would be time consuming, but very funny.
But she didn't feel like wasting that much time. Instead, she made a formal request to the office of the Moff. Boring, but it was quick. Just a day later she'd been given an appointment.
Which is how she found herself in a waiting room. Before her, behind a desk, sat a tall Muun.
He was impeccably dressed. The standard Imperial uniform, modified for his body type, was clearly of different make. The stark black that marked him as a lower level official was not the common threads used by the Empire, but instead a much finer quality material, the color of which was comparable to black holes. It was so dark, in fact, it made him look almost two dimensional, like a shadow.
To contrast the sheer light absorption of the cloth was the lining. There were no visible stitches, and instead the edges of the uniform were lined with what looked to be chromium. It created the image as though small lines of light were moving instead of a person.
"Miss Zyx Mola, yes?" He asked, no accent discernible in his voice. Atypical for most Muuns, who often spoke basic with a higher, more nasally tone of voice.
"That's me. Here to see brother dearest!"
He hummed, eyes scanning her, and she detected a hint of distaste before he sighed.
"Go on through then."
She considered for a bit, but that look wouldn't leave her head.
"No. Not yet. You gave me a look just a second ago. What is it?"
His eyes met hers, and clearly spotted her determination before relenting.
"Well, to be honest. It's your outfit. It's dreadfully boring."
Indignation flooded her veins.
"Boring! My outfit is functional, and that's a beauty unto itself!"
"Honey, please. You have five pockets on either side of your jacket. And who knows how many on your pants. Plus, the colors don't match at all, and there's far too much bagginess going on with the outfit. It leaves the core, you, sticking out. And not in a good way."
Zyx was momentarily stunned before immediately throwing herself into the fray.
"Then it's clear you simply don't have any vision! The pockets create a functional pattern on the outfit that serves both to assist me and to draw attention. The bagginess keeps it comfortable, and more importantly leaves me, the best part and core, open and visible! This masterclass serves only to accentuate my own beauty!"
The Muun scoffs. "Accentuate? Please, it does nothing but make it seem as though the clothes are two sizes too big for you! Bagginess can work, but it must be constrained. Your jacket looks like it might fall off of you at any second! And the utility is purely performative, as none would have the need of so many pockets. Anyone who requires more storage would simply carry a bag of sorts. Pointless! Not to mention the coloring."
"First off, the pockets paint me as someone who is prepared for life in all its forms. And the bagginess doesn't restrict my movement, and is comfortable! Not to mention, the coloring is mismatched on purpose, because it brings asymmetry into the mix, and makes the entire outfit pop!"
"Hah! Your sense of asymmetry doesn't make you pop, it creates clutter. As do the pockets and the bagginess. A good outfit doesn't have to avoid the core, instead it guides the watchers eyes, shows intention and tells them what matters. With you, all I can see is a visual vomit of things that, individually, could almost work if not for them all being slapped together. Not to mention, comfort is in the tailoring, so if you need clothes that nearly fall off with every step to feel comfortable, then you need a better tailor."
A retort about how her clothes are honest to her character is on the tip of Zyx's tongue before the Muuns intercom beeps, and her brother's voice rings out.
"Garp, wasn't there an appointment scheduled a few minutes ago? Are they late?"
"No sir, we were just having a…spirited discussion. She's on the way."
With that finished, he waved her through, though the glance they shared told her everything.
This conversation wasn't finished. Not by a long shot.
Entering Las's office, the first thing she noted was the size.
It was smaller, despite not having been changed since. More amenities had been added to the space, with a couch, table, and small kitchen. It made the place feel cramped considering he also kept rows of filing cabinets around as well. His insistence on keeping physical reports was something to behold.
The second thing she noticed was the inhabitants of the room.
Las was seated behind his desk, a mug in hand, fingers rubbing his temple in annoyance. His pet, Mugwuffin if she remembered correctly, was lounging on a tall, fluffy structure behind him, stretched out across a platform and audibly snoring.
Before him were three people. Her other two sisters, and her father.
Unlike the others, Zyx never really hated her father. Not truly. Shal had known him the best, considering he raised her, and Alvi had always insisted on seeing Las as a child and so met him as well. But Zyx had never really interacted with him. To her, he barely existed, and how could she hate a stranger?
"Look, Las, stop putting this off. Just tell me why you don't want to go!" Yelled Shal, slamming her hands on the desk, clearly angry. Shal was notorious for her temper around friends and family. With anyone else, she was as cold as ice. But with those close to her, her rage was plain to see.
"First of all." Las said. "If I were a crueler man, I could shoot you where you stand."
The room paused, even Zyx. Las? Shoot someone? It sounded ridiculous.
But he was Moff.
"And if I cared enough, I would go on this family vacation. Thankfully for you, I am not a cruel man. And even if I did care enough to go, I'm so absolutely swamped with the job of running the sector that I can't exactly spare the time, now can I?"
"Then delegate! That's half the job anyways, isn't it?" Retorted Shal, clearly shaken from his threat but pushing on anyway.
"And trust the corrupt idiots out there to do their jobs properly? Like hell. And I do delegate! I have Dornun here, even if his wording is vague and his tone too smug for how much I pay him."
"You don't actually pay me at all." Retorted the man, face serene in the midst of the ongoing drama.
"...Really? Shit. Talk to Garp about it and have your payroll figured out. I refuse to break my own labor laws."
It's then that he notices her.
"Hey! It's nice to see the entire family! What's the reunion for?"
Shal makes that face she always does, where she can't decide if she's happy to see Zyx or annoyed at her general existence before answering.
"We're trying to get this shut in to come on vacation with us. He never leaves his tower for anything other than work, he never calls. At this point, I'm afraid he'll die of exhaustion and only be found a week later because everyone assumes its normal."
"Hey! I don't do that!"
Shal simply points towards the blankets on the couch.
All the while, Zyx notices Alvi's quiet demeanor. Alvi was always a fairly fiery person, at least around her friends and in her leadership. But around the family, she was a shy individual. It didn't help that Las and her had grown apart, what with Las's constant disobedience of Mother, leaving Alvi as the sole real recipient of her full judgement. With Shal and Zyx away from Eriadu, and Dornun concerned with literally anything else, it left her alone.
Zyx had always regretted that, if she was being honest. But MI had been the only way to escape, to get away from her Mother. A position she earned on her own, with no possible connections to the Mola family. It just so happened to give her no breaks anywhere near Eriadu.
It was as Las and Shal continued to bicker that the intercom on Las's desk dinged.
"Sir. You have an unscheduled appointment here to meet you. One Jir Mola?"
The room stopped. Even Dornun gave pause, eyes widening slightly. Zyx would've been proud of catching that detail, given that on average the old man was more perceptive than her by a mile, but the current situation made her forget all about that.
With shaking hands, Las pressed the intercom. "Let her through." He said, in a voice that sounded far steadier than he seemed.
The doors slid open, and in walked the Mola family Matriarch in all her glory.
She was not tall, standing at some 5 '6 (around 1.7 meters) and wearing the dark beige uniform of an Imperial commandant. Her hair was coiled into a regulation bun, streaks of white marring the sea of black.
Her face was a stern thing, seemingly always set in what seemed to be an impassive, almost neutral face. But that was not the truth, and Zyx could see it. The slightest curve of the lips, the most minor crinkling of the eyes. Mother never made large gestures, never raised her voice, and rarely changed her facial expression. It left her face with far fewer wrinkles than someone her age, like Dornun, would normally have.
Yet, those little details belied all the emotions she hid from the world.
Jir Mola was, for what seemed like the first time Zyx had ever seen, satisfied. Or at least as close as she could ever get.
"You're all here. Good. Is this room secure?"
A shock of instinctive fear seemed to run through Las, and he nodded.
"Good." Her imperious gaze swept over the group, stopping only on Dornun.
"Dornun." She said in monotone.
"Jir." He replied with just as much emotion.
"Why are you here."
"I've found employment under Las."
At that, her gaze snapped towards the youngest, eyes softening an imperceptible amount.
"Las. You've done well for yourself. Far better than expected. Good."
Zyx had to restrain her emotions. That was, bar none, the most praise she'd ever heard Mother give to anyone. Period. It simply never happened.
Before Las could respond in any way, Jir continued.
"This sector is the perfect staging ground for our families future. It seems most of you have already found employment here, which is perfect. Zyx."
Hearing her name from Mother brought back a deluge of emotions that she tamped down on, choosing instead to look at her.
"Why are you here? MI gives few vacations."
"...The ISB made a power move. MI is dying."
"Hmm…This is an advantage. Join the ISB. The jump should be easy to cover. If you can be assigned to this sector, even better."
Zyx wanted to protest. Join the ISB? Why would she ever want to join those sniveling, propaganda obsessed, paranoid bastards? They were stumbling fools, rancors in a porcelain shop, jumping at every shadow. MI had its issues, its internal rivalries, but at least they were professional about it. But she stayed her tongue. Even years apart hadn't washed away the conditioning.
Mother turned back to Las. "You are to give your sisters better assignments. More power. This family must sit at the top of this sector. And from what I hear, you have already begun a purge of the administration. Good. Also, you have pushed for more non-human integration in the sector, correct?"
It seemed to be at that point that Las's voice found him. "...Yes. Though it's slow and subtle."
"Good. Keep it that way. I want this sector to have as little xenophobia as possible, but not so little as to alert the Empire."
They all look at her a little oddly. While Mother had never been a xenophobe, she'd spoken the right words and said the right slurs to the right people, always aiming to get in the good graces of those above her.
Noticing the looks, she scoffed. "Can't you see? The Empire is doomed to failure. After that debacle with Alderaan, it's plain for most. The Empire won't last the next decade, if that. Our families best bet of staying in power is ensuring this sector is as prepared for transition into Rebel hands when that happens. It'll secure us positions in the future galactic government."
It sounded insane. It sounded like treason. Yet, despite the fact that Mother had always been an Imperial hardliner, despite the fact that she ran an Imperial Academy, despite the fact that she'd personally been a friend of Wilhuff Tarkin…it made sense. It clicked.
Jir Mola only cared about her legacy. Nothing else.
"You will accept my transfer request to the sector. I heard that you are opening new academies. I will be Commandant of the largest one. It will position me to influence the next generation of troopers and help ensure we have a better military grasp when the time comes."
That was another thing that clicked. Commandant. Jir Mola, with her connections, could've held a higher office. But she chose not to. Instead, she chose to stay a Commandant. Why? Because of the sheer influence over the next generation of cadets she would have. The ability to use promising cadets as a bargaining chip. The ability to negotiate directly with the parents of wealthy or connected cadets.
The ability to ensure her own children got into the best tracks, and therefore better, more powerful careers.
Mother continues on, giving each of them assignments to be completed. Alvi was to be made into a propaganda hero, to be sent out in her TIE to slaughter pirates and spread the Mola name sector wide.
Shal was to be promoted within the Navy, and make close ties with the new Sector Admiral.
Zyx was to join the ISB, get assigned to the sector, and make connections and monitor the ISB's actions from there.
And Las was to continue to make the sector more prosperous, while also building up the sector's military presence in order to ensure it was safe from the inevitable warlordism that the Empire's fall would bring.
And through all of it, Las was silent. He seemed to stare into the middle distance, as if there was something there calling to him. Eventually, he said one word.
"...commandant."
Mother turned to him, eyes narrowing just the slightest amount.
"What? Have you something to add?" Her tone clearly telling him to either speak productively or not speak at all.
"Your rank is Commandant." He continued, the slightest giggle escaping his mouth.
Before Jir could respond, Las burst out into a full blown laugh. Hands on his stomach, keeled over his desk, laughing until he cried.
This went on and on, Mother trying and failing to stop him. Only when she seemed on the verge of slapping him did he calm down just enough to explain.
"Heh…your rank is-heheheh-its just Commandant! HAHAHAH!!!" He burst out laughing again. "You have absolutely NO power over me!"
As he said this, he started typing something into his terminal, giggles still escaping him.
"Las Mola. I am your Mother. You will silence this foolishness and listen to me." Mother didn't raise her voice, she never did, but at this moment she seemed poised to scream at the man.
Instead, Las simply turned to her. "I've accepted your transfer request."
"Good, now-"
"And immediately discharged you."
The room freezes for the third time. The only difference?
Jir Mola is frozen as well.
"...What?" Jir seems to grind out, her face slowly contorting into the angriest Zyx had ever seen her.
"Now, the military pension program here in the Minda system is pretty nice, but considering you were just a Commandant, it likely won't be that much since it's based on the Mindan payscale instead of the Eriadu one. So, I recommend you find yourself a job."
Jir just stared at him as though he had sprouted new limbs.
"The local administrative offices have job assistance programs that can get you started if you need to. I recommend you check them out, since you'll need to go there anyway to get your new civilian ID issued to you."
"Wha-you can't-"
"I can. And I have. See this?" He says, pointed towards his rank pips with an insufferably smug look on his face. "I'm a Moff. You are a Commandant. While I understand that some things do get mixed out here in the Outer Rim, I'm pretty sure I know how the chain of command works."
Jir couldn't respond. Her eyes were wide open, mouth agape, posture rigid with shock.
Las simply pressed the intercom. "Garp, please send in security to escort Mrs Jir Mola out of my office please. She has some dischargement papers to work through."
As two Stormtroopers walked in and started to bodily drag Jir away, her eyes never left Las's smiling, almost giddy face.
Only after the doors had closed did Las let out a sigh of relief.
"Wow. I spent years dreading her. And she was just a Commandant! I don't really know what I was scared of, honestly. Whew, that's one worry tossed away."
It was then that Las noticed the rest of them. "Alright, shows over. Get out of my office."
"But-how-"
"Did you really-?"
"HAHAHAHAH!"
Alvi, Shal and Dornun reacted in synch, while Zyx simply stood there. Staring at the doors where Jir Mola had been dragged away. Out of the office. Out of her rank. Out of Zyx's life.
"Let me work for you."
Las looked at her, an eyebrow raised, before shrugging. "Sure, whatever. You seem competent enough." He typed something into his terminal. "Talk with Garp on the way out, he'll help get the paperwork sorted and introduce you to your new boss. I'm sure Thorne will love you."
"Now!" He said, standing up. "I've got an R&D ship showcase in twenty minutes and a meeting with banking clan representatives after that, so all of you need to shoo! Get! Scram!"
And scram they did. Alvi and Shal still in a haze, Dornun still laughing his ass off, and Zyx reveling in this newfound feeling.
The feeling of freedom.
-
Yo. I never knew the Eruptor in Helldivers 2 was so goated against the Bots. Now I know.
-Freefaller
